Visiting a shelter and the subject of human trafficking

Me scribbling in my note-pad/diary at a train station.

So, I’ve actually arrived back in England by the time I write this, but this time I actually have a legitimate reason for posting late.  The last three days of my last Romanian trip were spent visiting a Shelter for Human Trafficking victims. This will be the subject of this blog and it’s not going to be butterflies and marshmallows because it’s an awkward and uncomfortable subject. I promise I’m not writing this to upset you or to ruin your day, and I will probably have a much worse time writing it than you will have reading it, I get a little squeamish talking on subjects like this when they become personal. I mean, it’s easy discussing the facts and statistics, and discussing the techniques being used to combat the trafficking, but when you meet someone who’s been a victim face-to-face, it makes those facts a reality, it becomes personal.

There are some things I can’t talk about, it’s all about keeping the girls protected and safe.  There is of course huge money in the industry, one girl can earn her captor 30,000€, and sadly those high up in the business have connections everywhere, even in the shelter we visited no funding is received from the Government, and the team behind the Shelter refuse to work with many of the police force and Government as over time the girls they have talked to know of their involvement. Informants can be killed, the girls could be stolen back or their families hurt or killed. Unfortunately there are a lot of people out there who single-mindedly focus on wealth, so much to the point that their greed makes them cold and willing to sacrifice lives in a “business” which subjects other humans to unimaginable cruelty… and the penalties… don’t get me started. A head trafficker  can get away with 5 years prison for deeds which in western cultures could be considered kidnapping, rape, torture, murder.

Trafficking can take many forms, these victims are girls who have usually been rescued from situations in which they were either taken forcibly or forced into prostitution.  It’s a difficult concept to get your head around and hard to differentiate between victims… the lines are all blurry. I imagine a few of you reading this might be thinking of it in a more western sense, yes, there are women who will choose to earn money this way and do it of free choice, but the line blurs when you talk about situations where someone has no money or food and believes this is their only option, or when someone is used to make money for another’s gain while being kept in a situation of poverty, or even those literally kidnapped and forced.

If you do a little reading about it you will generally hear most victims come from small villages, are from extremely poor circumstances, usually have already come from broken or abusive families and are lured either by men they trust into bad situations, are sold by boyfriends or their families, or accept an offer of work in a Hotel which will require them to leave the country or be taken into another province, when they arrive at the Hotel or destination they’re then told their only choice is prostitution, for which they will be given shelter and protection. Kidnapping cam happen too, I’ve told a story in an old blog of a woman we met who hopped into a “taxi” with her mother, when they rounded a corner three men jumped into the car with them and drove them out into a forest (they believed trafficking for organs) thankfully for an unknown reason their prayers and tears were answered when the car was stopped for an unknown reason and they were left in the forest to find their way back.

So, how do they find these girls in the first place? They are connected with a few policemen the trust who will inform them if they suspect a situation, as well as a child protection unit who will often pass them minors who have been found in these situations, other times it is just about heading out into the streets at night and chatting with the girls to see if they are trafficked and willing to escape. The really genius idea was a medical centre offering free medical care, often the Pimps are unwilling to spend money on healthcare and so jump at the chance to get it free. Here the staff can quickly judge which girls are at risk and in bad situations, and offer them protection and help.

From here they are taken to the Shelter where they are offered protection, given medical care, counselling, sessions with psychologists, are fed and clothed and given identity papers (these are often taken off the girls to ensure they cannot run away). Sometimes the girls come addicted to drugs and so go through a kind of rehabilitation.

In the shelter they are cared about and in some cases find unconditional support and love for the first time. Often many have not finished high school and so begin attending schools or University, others train for other jobs, during the day they are offered sewing lessons and sell the items they make, many begin learning English to help them in the future… the program focuses on helping and healing them, preparing them for life outside again and reintegrating them. Depending on how old they are and where they are with their schooling they will usually stay a year or more.

The girls at the shelter range in age between 14 (arrived at age 13) and 24, some arrive with young children (which I imagine would have been a large part of the reason they left)… I was surprised at how young they were, half I would say were 16 or under.

Right well lets go back to the beginning to let you in on how I felt about it all, and meeting the girls.

I will admit I was quite nervous and anxious on the drive to the centre. Four of us were visiting Ryan and Andrea (the American couple who have moved to Bucharest specifically to battle Human Trafficking, Andrea having worked for years in a woman and children’s shelter in the US), Leanne and I. It was an extremely hot day (over 30°C and dry) and we found ourselves sweating in the small car with broken air conditioning and back windows stuck in the UP position. We’d picked about a kilogram of mixed chocolate biscuits from a bakery on the way, but we really had no plan as to what we were going to do (dates somehow had gotten mixed up and the director who was going to show us around was out of the country receiving an award for her efforts). I guess I had been trying to mentally prepare myself for the last few months, in reading and hearing stories many spoke of girls who were very withdrawn, shirked from physical contact, were suspicious and distrustful of new people, shy and ashamed of their past (the one they had no control over) and unwilling to converse. I worried about whether I would meet people damaged beyond repair, whether I even could I make their situation worse by mentioning the wrong thing, would I be able to communicate… I felt so unbelievably unprepared and unqualified.

I’m pretty sure I was praying on-and-off the whole drive their, “just please let me find something to talk about with them, let me say the right things, give me sensitivity and not offend anyone. Let them see that I’m here because  want to help, not because I have some ulterior motive or have a perverted interest about their suffering in a world I can’t imagine”.

We drove through the opened security gates and along a long high-fenced driveway to a large House where about two staff and six or so girls sat or stood hesitantly by the door. I’m guessing they were there out of interest and curiosity, watching us carefully to see what kind of people we were and why we were visiting.

Thankfully, my prayers were answered. I just went into “auto” mode. Instead of hanging back awkwardly and waiting for someone to introduce us I just smiled and walked up to the nearest girl offered my hand (to shake) and in my best accent said “buna zewa” which is a casual Romanian greeting (like “good day to you”). My accent must have been rather obvious as it got a few giggles and to my surprise instead of the hand-shake I got a hug and a kiss on each cheek (Romanian custom between two close women), this seems to set the pace for the rest of the day and each of us proceeded to go around all the girls and get hugs and smiles from each one.

Turns out my worries and perception of how the shelter would be couldn’t have been more unnecessary. If I have learned one thing visiting families and people in tough situations over here it is that anyone visiting, no matter how hard the circumstances or how foreign the culture, how disturbing the problem or poverty… if you go in with a genuine heart and countenance, wanting to help and willing to listen, accepting and loving all people, they will see your genuineness and respond to you with kindness and patience.

The whole day was spent just chatting with the girls, 12 in total and a few of the staff who were there. It was mostly small talk, names, music, what they were studying in school, where they came from etc. Three spoke English well, as well as the guy who drove us there (his mother works full-time with the girls as a carer). For sure there were challenges with the language barrier, but we smiled and laughed it off and got by with either charades or one of the others translating. We had a tour around the building and played a few games which didn’t need language, like charades and hand-games. Although the house was nice you could tell there wasn’t much extra funding, and the girls didn’t have any games in the building to play with… this was actually probably a blessing in disguise as we got to spend a lot more quality time with them, as well as the fact that we visited on a long weekend so got to meet each girl.

Again I was shocked by how young the girls were (14-16) although they looked a little older, they were still very evidently teenagers. I think due to the good circumstance they are now in, and perhaps the combination of having girls that have been at the centre nearly a year and were further along the recovery process, even the girls who had recently arrived (2 months) were friendly and interacted with us. For sure there were triggers which seemed to “check” the situation every now and then… just when you would get caught up in a conversation which seemed exactly like one you’d have with a teenage girl back home, you’d see a girl sitting on a couch who was silently rocking herself, or another blankly staring into the distance who, when she’d notice you looking or smiling at her would be brought back into the conversation with a slow smile.

One of the things I don’t fully understand was how much they seemed to seek physical contact, often the girl you sat next to would hold your hand, or stroke your arm, play with your hair or lean their head on your (or the minders) shoulders. Others seemed in personality a lot younger than their age, dependant on others or vying for attention or affection. I’m not a psychologist so I’m not going to try to guess at why this might be. Let’s just say I really liked chatting with them and I think it was good for them too, both in getting a change from their everyday routine (due to security reasons they don’t get many visitors and usually go out with a staff member when shopping or to school etc.), or just in allowing them feel like they were living a normal life again.

One of the good things we heard about was the fact that a group of youth (teens and University students) visits each Friday to hang out with them. We actually met up with the pastor of that church before one of our day visits, he gave us a bit of an interesting insight into how hard it used to be for the girls in the shelter. Apparently they were allowed to opt in to going to a local church if they wanted, unfortunately the church they first attended treated the girls badly, focusing on their past, judging them and isolating them… basically making them feel responsible or bad about their lives (which is the last thing a church should do or what you’d expect). Soon it got to a point where they decided to shift churches to this man’s, and unfortunately because of their previous treatment, he and the people in the new church had a very difficult time at first. The girls stuck to themselves, were loud and rude during the services and would openly scoff and laugh, wore inappropriate gear and treated people badly. Thankfully it seems his church is one of good substance and people, because they continued patiently and just cared about them and continued to help them… In time their trust and friendship was gained, which was when the youth started visiting them by request and more of the girls choose to come to church because they want to, and because their they hear that they are loved unconditionally and that their past is dead and gone. Whatever you believe, it is true that wounds and emotional scars that can take years to really deal with, can (and have been) healed in an inhuman length of time, by belief in God.

I’m trying not to make anyone uncomfortable here, but I’m just writing what I’ve seen…

With each new girl, there is often an adjustment period, but in time most come to see all is done with a good heart, and that those helping them are doing so out of love. The girls who have spent longer in the shelter often convince those who’ve just arrived who can be trusted. This is of course a concept which is extremely hard to grasp, perhaps almost impossible, for people who have been horribly abused at the hands of others, perhaps even family members, and who (some of which claim) have never experienced genuine love and care before arriving.

Unfortunately, as with all programs dealing with such circumstances and trauma, not all girls are rehabilitated. We heard of a girl who early on in the shelter was still addicted to drugs and actually ran away (probably back) one day when she went to high school. Sadly this is why the other girls are now accompanied when they leave the centre.

Although we all delicately avoided talking too much about their pasts (I feel that it would be more appropriate if you’d spent enough time with a girl to earn her trust, when she might talk to you about her past in a one-on-one conversation) I seemed to gather that most of the girls came from poor families who where probably abusive and didn’t really care about them. One time the conversation became very heated when Ryan posed a question about how schools could best be educated about the reality and dangers of trafficking, the youngest girl actually got very angry and argued that although it’s good to try and educate, this wouldn’t happen if they came from good families who cared about them, it’s mostly the families fault… I never heard her talk about her parents.

Not all of the girls were trafficked for sex, although I didn’t hear the full story one girl I got along really well with found herself in Germany without any identity papers, pregnant and living on the street. Thankfully she heard about the shelter and was able to move into the shelter to go through the pregnancy and back to high school, she now has a beautiful 2 month old baby boy.

All in all I thought the girls were lovely and were amazing to have survived situations worse than I can imagine (and quite frankly don’t want to TRY to). They were girls my age and younger… just like me, but who had been put in terrible circumstances, who’d had to deal with situations no-one should have to, where they fought to survive. They seem to have adjusted well though it’s hard to tell from three days, they all seem grateful to be in a place which cares for them.

They are the lucky ones though, who HAVE a second chance at life, have been rescued, are getting an education and are being told they are human beings who are worth something, and that they can dream of a different future.

Saying goodbye was so hard, it’s amazing how quickly you can get close to people and form an attachment. I’d really love to have been able to stay a lot longer, just to hang out and be friends, hopefully help them in some way, show them not all people are bad, and that they can live normal lives and as women are worth much more than they’ve believed for so long.

We must have taken about an hours to fully say goodbye, we hugged and kissed everyone more than once, there were tears from a few, each of us was given a hand-made bracelet of woven yarn as a gift… it was very very hard. I truly want to visit again and meet up with some of the girls in the future, to see how they’re doing, to stay friends.

I hope.

Romania is a tough country… both in attitude and for anyone looking for employment, even those with masters degrees can be found working in grocery stores, counting themselves lucky to have a job… let alone young girls who have already had such a tough life and bad experiences with people… I just pray they are blessed this time around, that they’re not treated badly again, or forced back into the circumstances they were rescued from.

Man… sometimes I just find myself thinking “What IS this?…Is this life, is this the world I grew up in and that I thought I knew?”. Things seem so upside down from life in New Zealand (pun not intended :)

Sometimes I wish I could go back to those days, when the world was fine and people were nice and the good guys always won. But of course there is no going back, and the world hasn’t changed… it’s me, I’ve changed because I’ve exposed myself to its reality… and unfortunately it’s not pleasant.

I think I believe that people are born good, that no-one is born evil… but that too often bad people born before us corrupt us, either by circumstance (depriving others of their basic needs and rights for their own gain) or because somewhere along the line people began “surviving” which is a lot easier to do if you are someone selfish, who has no morals… than someone trying to live with honour, helping others as well.

The root problem and solution lies in the fact that a few evil men and women, rule over and control through their wealth, the masses… but because people are generally good, if we could somehow even the scales, or overturn these few with those of good character, things could change. I have to believe this… because I refuse to believe that people are actually okay with sacrificing many others for themselves… for a Gucci bag for example.

It’s not just bad people who can effect hundreds, thousands, millions… good people can have this effect too. I guess I believe that if you can improve or save even ONE life, that yours has been worth it. And I’d rather spend a lifetime finding out how I can best help as many as possible, than to attend all the fashion shows in the world, to live the life of a movie star, than to own a mansion in the Bahamas and spend each day in luxury.

Perhaps that’s just me, or my personality, the person I was meant to me… I just think each person has something unique to them, that can help others. Perhaps it is being a soccer mum and being the woman the other ladies in the neighbourhood go to for advice and want to have lunch with… but perhaps that woman could also support a program overseas, and speak out against something wrong in the world, perhaps after her children graduate she could visit this program. Perhaps her job working as a receptionist in a Legal Firm allows her to mention an unjust situation to the child she supports, which eventually will get action taken and laws changed… Perhaps.

I guess you never know the effect you have.